Travelers short stories, oneshots
by EllaEmerald1237
Summary: Short pieces of the characters from Travelers - first time uploading on ff.net, because there's nowhere near enough for this show and I'm still not over season 3 or the cancellation (rated T just to be safe)
1. Philip and Trevor are adopted by a cat

Really, Philip would have been fine with just the turtle.

Poppy was low-maintenance enough that she didn't take away any time or money that needed to be spent on Traveler business, meaning Mac and the others had given him the blessing to keep her. She kept him company, gave him something to look after so he didn't feel redundant on the days he sat around not doing much. Sure, she didn't really show affection, but he didn't need her to. It was enough just having her there.

So when the cat first turned up, long grey and white hair matted with hungry pale green eyes, he didn't think much about giving it something to eat. It was there and it was hungry, what else could he do? It seemed happy enough wolfing down some scraps of ham that he'd found, and after meandering around the base a bit it left again. (He didn't think about how it got in, either. Most sources he could find online just decided you couldn't keep them in or out of anywhere, and it wasn't like he'd spent time cat-proofing the place)

When it turned up again, Philip was quite happy. It seemed to like him, or at least liked the food. He'd managed to source some tuna, earning a needy 'mrow!' and lots of rubbing against his legs. Again, though, he thought that might be it.

By the third time Trevor had moved in with him. It had happened enough now that Philip half expected it, and had another tin of tuna on standby ready for the cat. His housemate however was caught by surprise.

"You get a cat?"

"It turns up now and then for food, but that's about it. I know I can't keep it."

Trevor stared at it speculatively from where he sat at the table. "It'd be more work than Poppy, but definitely less than a dog. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"No clue."

That was about that: they both watched the mystery cat eating, and didn't talk about it further.

A few times later (he stopped counting after a while) and the rest of the team met the cat. They'd been gone on a mission and had met up back at ops to reconvene.

Mac did a double take upon seeing a ball of fur next to the fridge. "Hey, Philip, did you..."

"No, I just feed it now and then."

"Be careful," Marcy cautioned, "If you feed it regularly it'll start thinking it's yours and move in."

"Relax, I know I can't keep a cat here. Probably start knocking expensive tech from the future off of tables."

So it was decided: the cat couldn't stay. Although in hindsight, maybe they should have told that to the cat.

After meeting the whole team, it apparently decided that this was home now. It stayed on the floor, watching them all, until one by one the team left. Only when it was just Philip and Trevor did it move, padding silently over and jumping onto the table.

"I mean," Trevor began slowly, "it's not like the others are ever really here. It'd be us two who had to look after it."

"It's not like I really leave the place, it couldn't get into that much trouble. Could it?"

They looked at each other.

"So we're keeping the cat?"

Philip smiled, running a hand along the soft fur of their new friend. "No. The cat's keeping us."

"I've always thought cats were miserable bastards myself, but at least it shits without you having to lead it around," Ray gave his input when he too met the cat. "It is trained, right? It have a name yet?"

"We kind of just call it The Cat. We haven't checked the gender yet, so..." Philip spread his hands in a shrug.

"It's gotta have a name, even the turtle has a name. It's a pet, give it a name."

He shrugged again, biting back a comment that it was more of a tenant that didn't pay rent.

Google told him that the cat was a female, and going by the state of her, she was probably a stray. Her fur was matted to the extent that he couldn't brush out the dirt, and observation said she wasn't hurt or ill. He was quietly relieved: it was one thing to decide to keep the cat, but another to spend all their money on vet bills.

Grace was clearly not much of a cat person.

"Why a cat, of all creatures? It might look cute but it's still a ruthless killer with no loyalty or care whatsoever."

The three of them - Philip, Trevor and Grace- watched her play for a moment. She was tossing a sponge about, batting it into the air and pawing at it, or pushing herself along the floor and chewing it.

"So ruthless," Philip remarked drily.

"Cats can be just as loving as dogs, and are less maintenance," Trevor reasoned. "Besides I've heard you talking to other pupils as school, you're hardly the poster child for empathy."

The cat chirped and brushed against their legs, a purr rolling up from deep in her throat.

"Yeah, but at least I'm useful for more than tearing up furniture and clawing everything."

Philip knelt down, threading his fingers through the little cats fur.

"You still don't even have a name for it?"

Carly had come over try and drag him out on a walk, but they ended up distracted by the cat. She'd brought Jeffrey Jr over: her babysitter was busy, and since she'd gauge out her eyes before voluntarily giving him to his father again she'd opted to bring him with her. Currently the toddler was sat in the floor of ops, reaching out in a mesmerised fashion for the tail of the once-a-stray cat.

"Been thinking of something flower related, you know? Stick with the theme," he gestured vaguely to Poppy, sat in her tank.

"Rose? Delilah? Lily? She can't stay 'the cat' forever."

They both watched in contemplative silence as the cat flopped onto the floor, stretching herself out in a furry tangle of limbs. Jeffrey Jr squealed in delight, rubbing her stomach and laughing as his hands disappeared into her fur.

"Delilah," he decided. "She can be Delilah."

Delilah moving in really wasn't that big of a change: she came and went as she pleased, and they settled for getting her bowls for food and water and tucking a litter tray into the bathroom. Beyond that there wasn't anything they needed to do for her, as their new roommate was remarkably self sufficient. They did wake a few times to 'presents', usually small birds, but as Trevor reasoned it was in her nature, they couldn't change it. The couch also survived relatively unscathed: she'd found a small blanket which was much more to her liking.

It was pretty peaceful. Life between missions settled into a routine, and while it did include more running than he would've liked Philip had to concede he was happy with it. One evening, he and Trevor sat watching Delilah play with another sponge she'd found. He was sat at his desk, Trevor on the couch.

The other traveler broke the silence.

"I think she's pregnant."

"What? Why, what makes you think that?"

"She's just put on more weight than I'd expect, even if she wasn't eating a lot before. It's also more focused around her lower abdomen than anywhere else on her body." They fell into speculative silence for another moment. "Google it, find out more symptoms."

Most of the night passed as they hopped between websites, alternating between staring at the computer and at the cat. At the end of a long few hours of research, Philip sat back in his chair, tugging at his hair with one hand.

"I think you're right," he conceded. "I think she's pregnant."

Trevor broke into a grin, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, what does this make you, a granddad now? Congratulations, Philip, welcome to the old man club."

He tried to temper his own smile. "Don't get too excited, it's not like we'll be able to keep them all."

"I know, but just picture little kittens running around ops! We're gonna have to small-cat-proof this place to the max."

"Should be an interesting mission." He knew that the kittens were only temporary, but he couldn't help but brighten up at the thought of them.

They weren't sure exactly when she'd become pregnant, but about a month and a half later they'd all gathered at ops to plan out their next mission. Delilah seemed agitated, pacing the stone floor and moving a lot between her favourite hiding spots. Once they'd determined she was pregnant, Philip and Trevor had gone to extremes to prepare their home for new arrivals: from making sure that nothing below knee level was a threat to kittens, to making sure Delilah had plenty of spots where she felt comfortable giving birth. Unsurprisingly, many were high up, enclosed and generally unreachable. Philip had been mildly stressed at the thought of complications arising in a place where they couldn't get to her, but Trevor reassured him that cats were remarkably resilient and she was far more likely to know what she was doing than they were. They'd just have to trust her.

Once it became clear that the mission was going to run on late, and the team would probably be staying overnight, Philip began preparing the couches for guests. They pushed on, gathered mainly around the table or Philip's desk: sometime around eleven, Delilah disappeared, but they were all so focused and used to her sporadic attendance that they barely noticed her absence.

Finally, at maybe seven the next morning Mac called it quits. The team began preparing to wrap up and Philip, who'd yet to sleep headed for his bed. Only half awake, he didn't register the noises until he pulled back his blanket and was confronted with a happy ball of Delilah and kittens.

The mother gave a semi-annoyed mreow at her bed being disturbed, and Philip snapped back into focus.

"Guys, she had the kittens!"

Five, to be exact, all carefully cleaned and feeding diligently. Delilah looked almost smug with her brood as the other members of his team filed in to see.

"She managed it all on her own," Trevor remarked in a quiet voice.

Persistent hammering at the door got their attention. Mac and Carly moved to open it, Carly with her hand tight around her gun.

"Grant! Grant, I know you're in there!"

Mac started. "Kathryn..?"

Philip was still entranced by the kittens. Four of them had taken on variations of Delilah's coat, with grey patterns dispersed onto the white. Only one kitten had taken what he assumed was the fathers colour: a wild orange colour, standing out starkly against its monochrome siblings. There was an imprint of dried blood on the bed beneath them, and it definitely smelt a little lived-in, but he'd happily have all of that so ling as the kittens were all healthy.

"You didn't come home last night, so I called Walt to see if he knew where you were, and when he told me you left early I knew there was something up. I had the woman in your office - Beth, I think her name was? - and she said your car was here." She folded her arms, pinning him with a steely look. "Right in the place I found you last time it was stolen. What's going on, Grant?"

"Are you sure you shouldn't be the agent here?" He tried for humour, scrabbling to come up with an excuse. "Really, Kat, I'm sorry I didn't call sooner but-"

"You didn't call at all, Grant! Are you going to blame this on your CI again? No, wait, you can come up with an excuse all on your own, I want to hear you try and explain this."

"It is my fault again." Philip appeared at the door to his bedroom, a kitten in each hand. "I, er, panicked last night."

"Philip's a grandfather!" Trevor shouted before being shushed as the kittens mewled.

"Are those kittens?" Kat set her bag down, interrogation apparently on pause.

"I got a cat and we found out she was pregnant. I didn't really know what to do so I dragged them all here for support." It was a flimsy excuse as best but the kittens were apparently undeniable evidence. Plus they couldn't exactly say it was a mission from an AI to help save the world.

"They're so precious," her voice had gone soft as she gazed at them. She'd suffered several miscarriages, he recalled: she likely valued new life just as much as they did. "Can I hold one?"

"Just be careful." He wasn't sure about handling them so young, but Delilah was calm enough and they needed socialising.

Kat, to her credit, cradled the little kitten as though it would shatter in a breeze, mumbling to it quietly and petting it. Mac sent Philip a grateful look over her shoulder, and Philip couldn't help thinking that the newborns were practically honorary team members for helping them maintain protocol 5.

Later, when the team and Kathryn had gone home and the kittens were all feeding, Philip and Trevor once again sat and watched them.

"From one cat to six, in the space of a few months," Philip mused.

Trevor nodded somewhat absentmindedly. "Kat was right," he declared, "they are precious."

He tickled Delilah under her chin, and she purred.

(Philip took the couch that night. He could have moved the new family, but each time he considered it he remembered that she'd found his bed to be where she was most comfortable, where she felt safest in her greatest time of need. He reasoned that one night couldn't hurt.

A week later, Trevor decided enough was enough, and made him relocate the kittens to a safer place where they weren't at risk of crawling off the bed. He threw away the ruined sheets, but for the next week his bedroom still smelt like a cat den. He couldn't quite bring himself to mind.)

Being smothered by a horde of kittens, Philip reflected, would be the best way to die.

He lay on the floor of ops as the six-week-old kittens crawled over him. Three of the grey and white ones were males, while one grey and white one and the ginger kitten were both female. They seemed to like his hair, and enjoying play fighting his hands.

"Philip?" Trevor called, seeing him laying on the floor.

"I'm fine, I'm just playing." He watched on of the little greys make a spirited pounce as his hand, a little sadly. "I don't want them to go."

The other traveler joined him on the floor, sitting cross legged and scooping up a kitten to sit in his lap. "You know we can't keep them all. One, maybe, but not all of them."

"I know." It didn't make it any easier to accept. Soon they'd have all their vaccinations and medical checkups, and then it'd be goodbye. He wasn't ready. It had only been a few weeks! What if he never saw them again?

He said as much to Trevor, who smiled wistfully. "Then you'll always have the memories, at least. Besides, you can always keep in touch with whoever adopts them. I've been thinking of giving one to Grace- she lives on her own too, and as much as she seems to dislike people she can still get lonely, you know? A cat won't as energetically affectionate as a dog and she won't have to spend ages looking after it."

"Kind of seemed like she hated them," Philip pointed out.

Trevor nodded, conceding the point. "It'll grow on her. Besides, it'll give her something to talk to: she'd never turn it down."

In the end, he really needn't have worried about never seeing them again.

The first to go was one of the little grey males. Kathryn appeared at his door eight and a half weeks after she'd first hammered on it, demanding her husband explain himself, and asked if they'd be willing to give her one. She left with a tiny bundle of fur - they still seemed so small, but they were tough, he had to remind himself- which had seemed playful enough to keep her company during the long hours waiting for Mac to get home, but not so hyperactive that it would be destructive if they kept it indoors. Mac had been mildly concerned about the kitten shredding up any furniture that Kat was working on, but Kat insisted it'd be fine so long as they gave it lots of alternative scratching sources. It was, and Mac reported that Kat had named the kitten Bramble, it being the closest to a male-sounding flow name that she could think of (and that she kept making puns about Kat with a cat).

The second one went after David Mailer showed up, having heard from Marcy about the new arrivals.

("She said you were allergic to cats," Philip pointed out.

David wrung his hands. "I am, I just- I didn't like the thought of one sad and lonely kitten being left behind with no one to take it, you know? Not that I'm accusing you of being bad pet owners, I'm sure you're great pet owners, I just didn't want any to feel neglected and it's not like there aren't ways around allergies-"

"David! You can have a kitten!"

He brightened up. "I can?!")

David and Marcy ended up with the most energetic of the grey and white males. Marcy checked in on the comms almost daily to list the most recent bit of vandalism achieved by the kitten, but David, terrified of the cat being refused adoption because of its habits, refused to give it back. In defiance to this nature and in defiance to any kind if creativity on David's part the kitten became Flower. (Someone Marcy assured them she teased David relentlessly on, but it stuck.)

The third went when Trevor passed one on to Grace. The final grey and white male, and the calmest of the three brothers. Trevor explained that Grace probably wouldn't know what to do with an overly affectionate pet, but with its aloof nature and careful tread it'd be less likely to get on her nerves and more likely to become her companion. Nevertheless, she named it Nettle, and maintained that it was nothing but a thorn in her side (something Philip pointed out was clearly a naming error), at least until they caught her sleeping quite happily with the cat curled on her neck and face. They really had a way of growing on you.

Eventually it was just Delilah and the two girls. Philip would have been happy keeping both of them, until a bashful Carly showed up at ops claiming that Jeffrey Jr should have a pet to grow up with. She took the little ginger cat, and Philip thought it suited her: it was by far the fiercest of its siblings, but it wasn't violent by nature, being quite happy to lie with him and sleep. Carly informed him that she was called Tiger-lily, Lily for short, and that he was welcome to come visit her whenever he wanted.

They kept the final kitten, having ran out of friends to foist them on and unable to bear never seeing them. She was the smallest of the litter, calm and placid, perfect to keep around ops. They called her Dahlia, and she settled in with them perfectly. When it came to missions, David became their official cat-sitter, checking in as well with Poppy. If Philip missed any of the kittens all he had to do was ask his team if he could visit them.

So in the end, it all worked itself out. Yes, he would have been fine with just the turtle. But he had to agree, sat by Poppy with Delilah draped across the back of his chair and Dahlia purring away on his keyboard, he was far happier with the cats too.


	2. Carly has hobbies, and beats people up

A/N: not sure about the timeline for this one: before the end of s3 obviously, just assume that after Jeff was caught drink driving people realised what he was like and Carly got her baby back.

Grant MacLaren was not having a very good Monday.

To start with, his relationship with Kat was still on the rocks after the whole kidnapping thing. He tried not to decide which was worse, the lengths she'd go to in order to avoid him, or how she'd flinch from his touch when that failed. Objectively he knew she'd gone through a traumatic experience (not that she remembered most of it) and, well, it wasn't like her mistrust of him was entirely unfounded. But there was too much at stake - like, you know, the whole world - for him to spend too much time and energy making sure one woman didn't hate him.

And then there'd been Jeff. He'd shown up at the office, again, drunk as a skunk, again. Accused him loudly of sleeping with Carly, _again_. Luckily it was around lunchtime so the office wasn't as full as it could have been, and it hadn't been too hard (simply immensely irritating) to kick Jeff out to go sober up somewhere.

But of course, Joanne Yates was a diligent, hardworking agent who took lunch in the office so she could work as she ate, and saw and heard the entire thing. So then it was another interrogation from her about who this Carly was, was she a prostitute, etc. He explained in the briefest, most detached way he could what happened between them, how they'd had a thing in the future but dropped it eventually here. So she let him off with a warning, as though he's actually done anything wrong or any of it would even minutely affect Jo.

And now he was trying to find Carly, because Jeff was making threats to push charges after she defended herself and while he was pretty sure he was just blowing smoke, it still felt like something she should know. He didn't want to do it over comms, because that would involve the rest of the team: plus it didn't really count as traveler business. At this rate though he was going to track her comm just to try and find her. She wasn't at home, her workplace or ops: and while he knew she wasn't restricted only to those places he couldn't for the life of him think of where else she'd be. So now he was looking at his last resort: her babysitter.

He dithered at the front door for a moment, contemplating how best to go at this, before knocking with as much confidence as he could muster. If Jeff saw him here, the cop would almost definitely shoot him.

A young woman answered the door, glancing at him questioningly. He smiled, hopefully reassuringly.

"I'm a friend of Carly's, I've been trying to get in touch with her all day- is she here?"

"No, she dropped Jeffrey off an hour or so ago. I have the address she gave me in case of any emergencies, though?"

He thanked her and left, heading to the address she'd given.

It turned out to be an old gym on the edge of town. Run-down but not yet decrepit, he couldn't think of a good reason for her to be here, not unless she was in some kind of trouble.

... Until he entered the building and found some kind of boxing class going on.

He stood back and watched her take on a woman a fair bit taller and probably a lot older than her. He knew she was capable of it, especially as she was a lot older than she looked, but it was still quite something to see. Lurking in the back of the room, he waited for them to take a break and tried to feel less creepy.

Finally another woman at the front of the group called for a break, and Carly walked over with her opponent to get some water. Seeing his chance, he caught her eye and let her come to him.

"Did we get a mission?"

"Hmm? No, not yet. Since when do you do boxing?"

"Since a few months back. What happened to protocol 5?"

"Jeff showed up at work again." He filled her in on what'd happened that morning.

She waved her bottle dismissively. "He's just blowing smoke, there's nothing he can actually do. He was caught drunk driving, everyone knows he's not the model cop they thought he was."

"I know but if he faked it once, he can fake it again. Look, you don't have to do anything now about it, I just wanted to let you know what he was doing."

She nodded, and he assumed that was the end of the conversation and turned to go. As he did, she called out to him.

"Wait, do you think... you'd be able to drop me off? I need to go pick up Jeffrey Jr and it's kind of far."

Meeting her eyes, he nodded and smiled. "Sure."

"So, boxing?"

Carly nodded as they pulled out of the carpark. "Mondays and Thursdays, 5 till 7. It's just a hobby, really."

"I'd have expected a hobby a little less, I don't know, violent. Something different from the lives we have to live as travelers. I guess more... normal?"

She let out a long breath. "It is normal, for them at least. Most of the women in there... they wanted something to make them feel confident. In control. Victims of sexual assault, people with anger issues who needed a place to let out energy... people who've been in abusive relationships like my host, who want to feel strong again. It helps."

He dropped her and Jeffrey Jr off at home without saying anything more about it. She didn't bring it up again either, despite sort of wanting to say more. No, to ask more.

She wanted to know if he felt entirely fake every morning when he woke up next to his 'wife'. She wanted to know if he was ever randomly hit with the realisation that he was lying, lying to every person around him, just by breathing and living and _being_. She wanted to know, if she told him how much she felt like a fraud, surrounded by women who'd been through so much and knowing that she hadn't really experienced what they thought she had, if he'd understand.

She didn't ask. Whatever there had been between them was over, no point reaching out to rekindle it. There was always also the fear that he wouldn't, and would dismiss it. She pitied Kat sometimes: she'd heard Mac easily swiping his wife's worries under the rug, which couldn't be good for her, especially seeing as she kind of had a point. It'd drive Carly mad if he tried that with her.

She also didn't delve into any of the other reasons she took the class. Excess energy was the main one: in the time between missions she felt agitated, as though there was something she needed to be doing, and physical exercise helped stave those feelings off. It was also a healthier way to burn off her anger. While she wasn't at the stage of having anger issues, she accepted that she didn't always calm herself as best she could, and should probably try and react less violently, at least not as a first resort. She'd heard that Trevor had done something similar with his host's friend- at least, before he was overwritten.

And it _did_ help, a little at least. She'd actually made friends in her group, on her own, as it wasn't like her host had any. Maybe a long time ago she did, before Jeff had cut off her contact with her family and started controlling who she was and wasn't allowed to see. By the time the girl died there was no one for her to turn to for help. She liked to think that if she'd been given the opportunity, her host would have done what she had, or at least tried to rebuild her life without that man in it- for her son's sake if not her own. Perhaps she'd have reconnected with her family: maybe Carly should, but she knew it'd be just another fake relationship and she really didn't want to deal with that. Not to mention that they'd probably know a lot about her host that wasn't on the historical record, and she could be caught out easily.

So for now, Carly settled for joining clubs and firmly disentangling Jeff from her life.

Boxing wasn't the only class she started taking. On Marcy's recommendation she'd taken up Tai Chi on Wednesdays, in the park. It was slower than she'd expected, but it definitely calmed her, not to mention how much it helped being outside under the open sky. Trevor was right about it being good to take walks in the park. She didn't know as many people in that class beyond the instructor, but it still felt like a victory over the man who'd tried to entirely isolate her and make her dependent on him.

She'd tried to meditate at Trevor's insistence, but the lack of movement drove her crazy. Despite Trevor's careful instructions she could never stay focused, not while she was sitting so still and silent. So, on Saturday nights, she'd taken up dancing.

It was a contemporary dance class. Some of the other attendees had been dancing since they were children, and she envied what seemed like natural talent but she knew was just years of practice. Luckily she'd been making this body exercise and stretch since she first traveled to the 21st, so she was at least quite flexible now: and her training in the future had taught her enough discipline that she could follow the movements the others made, practice letting her improve. Only experience would let her catch up to them, which would only come up in time.

She sincerely hoped she'd have enough time.

It was nice sometimes to forget about the traveler program, the missions and the protocols, and just remember that here in the 21st she now had friends.

It shouldn't have been such a novel concept for her, but it kind of _was_. In the same way she'd resigned herself to never having children, she'd just assumed a social life was out of her reach. Even the thought of it had worried her: girls her hosts age were off drinking and being in love and whatever and she was a trained tactician on a mission to save the future. What kind of common ground could they possibly find? There was also the fact she just felt too... _separate_ from other people: even after so long in the past it still felt like a divide between 'them' and 'us', the twenty-firsters and the imposters. She never expected to find a place for herself anywhere, or people who'd accept her without asking questions.

And yet, she thought as she turned up to a small cafe tucked away in a side street, she had. The ringing of the bell signalled her arrival to the rest of her group. _Her group_. She smiled as she greeted them.

It was so easy to fall into conversation with them. Apparently Kaylie (dance class) had a new boy toy, and Mira and Lian (tai chi group) were trying to get a house together. They had a laugh at the man selling the house who'd commented that it was nice they were 'such good friends'. Nadia (boxing) didn't say anything: she was more of a listener than a sharer, and was more than happy to keep to herself. Then attention turned to Carly.

Her immediate reaction was to withdraw, as it always was when she was questioned about her life. But she was safe here, and among friends. She didn't have to act unshakeable.

She looked at her hands, folded on the table, and took a breath. "My ex is trying to cause trouble again."

The comment garnered sympathy from the others, save Nadia, who was more of a doer than a consoler. The other woman straightened, eyes sharpening slightly. "Is this the guy who showed up yesterday?"

"Hm? No, that's Mac, he's sort of a colleague of mine. My ex is a cop." She laced her fingers together, resting her chin on them. "Last time he was in my house, he attacked me. I defended myself, and he ended up looking the worse off, so now he's threatening to press charges. He probably won't, but... I don't know, I just thought all that was over."

Kaylie looked at her, concerned. "One of my exes is a lawyer, I can try and get him to help you if you need it?"

Thinking back on what happened last time she needed a lawyer, Carly smiled. "I think I'm covered on that front, but thanks."

Mira and Lian expressed their support, and Nadia echoed it. Kaylie declared that if he tried anything she'd beat him up, _promise, no she really meant it_, and they laughed at the image of the tiny 5"3 dancer squaring up to an alcoholic cop. Carly felt warmth spread through her as she realised the other girl really was serious- her friends came before anything, and she'd do anything to protect them. She was touched to be so important to someone.

Later that evening, Nadia and Carly were walking home. Nadia's place was on the way, so they usually went together after their meet ups. They must look strange to anyone watching, Carly mused. She felt a kind of kinship with the other woman: maybe it was just that she was closer to Carly's actual age, rather than her hosts. Maybe it was Nadia's inclination towards action rather than waiting, or the fact she was clearly made of sterner stuff than most in their area. She didn't know all that much about Nadia: she tended to keep to herself, but she'd definitely lived through a lot. Maybe that was what made her familiar, that shared darkness that kept them apart from most other people.

There were also physical differences which would have seemed strange to outside observers - age being the main one, as Carly looked to be in her twenties while Nadia seemed to be in her early forties. They'd also dressed differently, with Carly in her leather jacket and leggings with a black top and Nadia wearing loose clothing in nondescript colours. Height and build, too, as although Carly wasn't short Nadia was still a fair bit taller than her, with hair cut almost to her scalp. Really, they appeared to be polar opposites: but there was a bit of Carly that said they'd have looked quite similar if she was in the body she had in the future.

Regardless of how similar or different they looked, they by no means looked vulnerable even while walking down a darkened alley. Clearly, though, someone had decided they looked like easy victims.

"Well, then, what do we have here?" A group appeared at the end, all male, five of them, probably armed and likely more than willing to hurt them.

They shared a look, and decided that a shortcut wasn't worth it, turning to leave. Their route was blocked by another four men.

"Where'd you think you're going?" One gave a vile grin.

Another look, and they were back to back, prepared to take on the thugs.

"Been a while since I've had to fight outside the gym," Nadia remarked offhandedly.

"Reckon you can keep up, grandma?" Carly taunted.

"Bet I can take down more."

"Bet you five dollars you can't!"

Yes, Carly thought as they split the money (another three had showed up in a van, and they'd got to take on five each, not including two who ran when they realised what they were up against) friends were great.


End file.
